


You've had me everywhere

by hiraethcas



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alpha Benny Lafitte, Alpha Dean Winchester, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Beta Gabriel (Supernatural), Beta Sam Winchester, M/M, Omega Castiel (Supernatural), Omega Charlie Bradbury, Pining, Slow Build, Slow Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-08
Updated: 2021-02-09
Packaged: 2021-03-13 11:07:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29277462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hiraethcas/pseuds/hiraethcas
Summary: College AU"Fuck, man, don't you watch where you're going?"A stranger's voice pulled Castiel from his haze, hauling him back to reality- the reality in which he just smacked somebody with the door. "Oh my God," he breathed out, meeting the stranger's eyes with an apologetic, awkward look on his face. "I'm so sorry, I was rushing, I- I didn't mean to hit you. Are you okay?"
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 1
Kudos: 40





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fic isn't really meant to revolve around a/b/o dynamics, so they're just in the background where it counts. I'm not really sure what I'm doing yet, but I'm hoping somebody'll like this B') If all goes well, this should be a big fic. Any criticism or comments are appreciated :-)

Late.   
Fuck, he was late. God damnit, not today, why did his alarm have to screw up _today?_ Life must've had one hell of a grudge against Castiel.

He'd awoken earlier that morning to an unpleasant aftertaste of sleep in his mouth and gunk in his eyes that he'd rubbed out before snapping to attention. His history professor had advised the entire class- don't stay up late, do _everything_ you can not to sleep in, because you sure as hell better not be late. Appearing at his door _late_ meant _locked out_ meant _you missed my lecture, better luck next time!_ And so far, up until now, Castiel had never been late; and he wasn't planning to be, now.  
He gave himself enough time to swish some mouthwash through his teeth and pull on a pre-buttoned collared shirt, accompanied by a grey v-neck pullover and a swipe of deodorant. Coffee was out of the question, though Cas had to pause just for a moment to mourn the loss of his nonexistent coffee before he gathered all of his belongings together- keys, wallet, lanyard. Check, check, check. Phone. Already in his pocket, check. Backpack with his books. Check.

As Castiel tossed his things into the front of his backpack and zipped everything up, a tired grumble came from the doorway behind him. Gabriel shuffled into the room, a particularly sour look on his face as he watched his younger brother hustle to get ready. Cas slung one strap of his bag over his shoulder and turned to Gabriel, eyeing him warily. "Don't walk so quietly, I barely noticed you. You almost scared me."

"I dunno, baby bro, I made my presence pretty clear. Why are you in such a rush, anyway? It's so early, 'n I was having a nice dream before your clattering got me up," Gabriel complained, frowning. He cast a cursory glance at the mess of hair on Castiel's head and sighed. "Plus, you look like liquid crap. You aren't even awake."

"I'm late, asshat. I need to get to class before it starts, or I'm screwed. Do me a favor and go back to bed." Castiel sent a glare in Gabriel's direction, turning back to grab a worn pair of leather shoes and slip them on. 

"No complaints there," Gabriel replied, stifling a chuckle as he watched his brother send him a second death glare. He knew that Cas wasn't normally so riled in the morning, but the kid took his classes pretty damn seriously, which he had to credit him for. Still, he could stand to brush his fingers through his hair, or something. "I might go out later. I have work tonight too, so make sure you've got your keys, I probably won't be here to let your mangy ass in."

Castiel nodded in acknowledgment, dismissing the remark embedded in Gabriel's statement and tucking a stray bit of his shirt into his pants as he unlocked the front door. "I'll see you later," he called out, shutting the door behind him, hoping it wouldn't slam. His house wasn't far from the bus stop- he could probably make it. Definitely, for sure. It totally didn't take 30 seconds of running like the wind, and Castiel was _definitely_ not out of breath when he got to his stop, just for the bus to pull up moments later. God, he didn't even have a moment to breathe.

After he boarded the bus, there wasn't much else to worry about besides maybe getting into a traffic accident. Now, with time to stress about himself, Castiel rubbed his hands over his face a couple of times, combing his hands through his hair in an attempt to tame it down. "Jesus Christ," he muttered under his breath, turning his head to look out the window and watch his surroundings whizz by. He felt a pang of guilt in his chest for being a dick to Gabriel, but for what it was worth, he didn't need his input. Still, he decided that he could type out a quick apology, having woken his brother up and all that. 

The ride wasn't much after Castiel's nerves calmed down. The adrenaline pumping through his body seeped out, draining away until he was left drowsy, hit with the tiredness he'd dodged when he first woke up and started getting ready. His head bobbed a few times, knocking into the seat in front of him and jarring him awake.   
...Maybe resting his head on the bus window wouldn't hurt. It wasn't so bad- Castiel enjoyed looking out of the window, watching cars, trees, people, and all sorts of other things become a colorful smear against the sky.

\---

As the college campus came into view, Castiel prepared to get off of the bus, pulling the wire a couple of blocks away from where he knew there was a bus stop. He had his bag ready, hung on his shoulder with a hand clasped around the strap. A quick glance at his watch and he was off of the bus, rushing down the steps and towards the building that his first class was in, muttering prayers under his breath that he wouldn't be late. It was a hasty scramble up the path to the building and up the steps, but as he made it to the double doors and swung them open, Castiel was able to take a moment to breathe. 

"Fuck, man, don't you watch where you're going?"

A stranger's voice pulled Castiel from his haze, hauling him back to reality- the reality in which he just smacked somebody with the door. "Oh my God," he breathed out, meeting the stranger's eyes with an apologetic, awkward look on his face. He caught himself staring and looked away quickly, instead regarding the bruise that was forming on this guy’s head. At least now he knew that the stranger had green eyes. And… a lot of freckles. Castiel shook his head to rid himself of the random thoughts in his head and focused on the man in front of him. "I'm so sorry, I was rushing, I- I didn't mean to hit you. Are you okay?" The stranger winced and pressed his palm to one of his temples, grinding against it slightly and pulling away when his head throbbed. “Yeah, I’m fine,” he groaned, speaking indistinctly under his breath before looking back up to Castiel. “It’s fine. Really, accidents happen.” Unconvinced, Cas stepped closer, observing the expression on the man’s face and cocking his head slightly. “You’re in pain,” he stated simply.   
“Let me take you to a nurse, at least. I’m responsible for this,” he continued, unhooking the bag from his shoulder to rummage around in its contents. “I’m sure I have an aspirin in here somewhere,” he mumbled, rearranging the things in his bag to recover a small pill bottle. 

“Hey, y’know, it’s okay, you don’t have to do anything for me. You’re gonna be late to that class you were rushing for if you don’t get going, so I suggest you go. Now.”   
Castiel looked up at the other man, blinking for a few moments, unsure of what to say. He was right, Cas supposed, but he felt horrible for nearly knocking the stranger over. “You’re, um. You’re right,” he said quietly, tossing the bag back over his shoulder. “I’ll, uh… I’ll see you around.” Castiel tossed the bottle of aspirin towards the man and ran past him, down the hall and off to the right, off to his history class, giving him no time to object to the bottle of pills. He watched as his attacker disappeared down the hall, thumbing over the label on the pill bottle and peeling at it absentmindedly. _What a weirdo._

\---

The professor’s lecture was as boring as they always were, and Castiel doubted the worthiness of his morning rush just to attend this tedious lecture. His perfect attendance said otherwise about his misgivings, but he definitely was not happy about how his morning had been spent. His mind wandered to the stranger he’d met just before class, recoiling as the events that went down replayed in his head. Judging by the reaction the man had, it must’ve been painful, though all Castiel had to spare at the time was a three-quarters empty aspirin bottle. Maybe he could find the stranger and give him a proper apology, though he found it unlikely that he’d be able to track down one guy on a campus as big as it was.

As the professor concluded their lecture and started to finish the class up, Castiel wondered if he’d be able to find this mystery accident guy again, piling his notebooks and supplies into his bag and zipping it up. If anything, he needed to find him and get that bottle of aspirin back, though why he handed the entire bottle over in the first place was unknown even to Cas himself. Letting out an exasperated huff, he stood to his feet, sliding the bag in his hands over his shoulder and sighing as his shoulder creaked. He really needed to clear some space in that damn bag. His priority now, though, was to find the poor guy that he’d made his victim.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just Dean's perspective on things. I hope I'm doing my own idea enough justice

Lucky Dean Winchester. So lucky, in fact, that he had a door swung into his face, smacking him right on the forehead, sure to leave a bruise in its wake. He knew Sam would see it later at lunch and make fun of him, furthering his resentment towards the rando that thrust the doors open with such abandon that you might think he was going to die. He was pretty, though, Dean had to give him that. The way his entire face flushed amused a pissed-off Dean, which probably helped him to not be… y'know, killed, before he could get to his class. 

He still had the aspirin bottle that this guy had thrown at him, tucked away safely in his front pocket. He was a bit of an oddball- mussed hair, sticking out in different directions like he rolled out of bed like that. Considering his mad rush to class, it was possible that he did. Wide eyes and a gravelly voice. He could definitely pull off a mad scientist costume, Dean thought to himself, before swatting the idea away.

The only class that he had to attend that day was an advanced placement math class, and Dean was thanking the Lord himself that it was finally over- majoring in mechanical engineering really did a number on him sometimes.  
He ran his fingers over the swollen skin on his forehead, unwilling to imagine what the bruise looked like now. He could probably snag Charlie on her way out of her cosmetics class and bribe her to cover it up, but she often demanded a heavy toll in exchange, and Dean wasn't sure he'd have what she wanted today. He'd have to try anyways, though. Dean Winchester does not walk around with bruises on his face- especially not ones that made him look like he lost a fight.

As he packed his things up and got ready to go find his friend, fingertips tapped lightly on his shoulder, turning his head to see what poor bastard felt like bothering him.

"Charlie? You- you're here early, I thought your guy didn't dismiss you until after class is officially over." She smiled at that, a mischievous twinkle in her eye as she sat down at a desk next to Dean's. "Sub today," she replied, "didn't bother us at all today. I got to try those weird scars I wanted to do on Benny, wanna see?"  
She doesn't wait for a response before pulling her phone out, but Dean doesn't complain, instead leaning over to peer down at the screen in her hands. She has a picture of Benny pulled up, handing the phone to Dean for his approval. 

"Jesus friggin' Christ," he breathed out, pinching and zooming to get a closer look at the faux gash covering Benny's eye. "Dude, Charlie, this looks like the real deal. This is sick as hell." He handed the phone back to Charlie, who tucks it away and laughs at Dean's remark.

"I know, right? I'm tired of Ms. MacLeod's hag ass telling me what I should and shouldn't be doing. I got to practice with good stuff, though, so I shouldn't complain. Although, speaking of good makeup jobs… please tell me that's makeup on your forehead."

Dean shook his head, sighing. "This guy burst through the doors, seemed like he was in a real rush. Didn't stop him from doing this to my head, though. I was actually gonna swing by your classroom and ask if you could cover this up, but, uh, I mean, you're already here."

"Don't sweat it, Dean. I've got spare supplies in my bag. Normally I'd bully you for your lunch money or something, but… this kinda seems like an urgent case." She cracked a sympathetic smile and started to empty the guts of her bag out on the desk, weeding through to grab what she needed to work on the bruise blooming on the Winchester's forehead. "Did you get a look at who did it, at least?" She dipped a sponge into something colorful and smeared it on Dean's skin, blotting it and evening it out. 

"Well, kinda. He stopped and tried to take me to the nurse, 'n I told him to just go to his class. Not before I got this, though." Dean reached into his pocket and retrieved the bottle of aspirin, holding it up so that Charlie could see. 

"You bullied his pain relievers out of him? That's messed up, Dean," she said jokingly, stumbling to the side to avoid a punch in the stomach. 

"He- he _threw_ it at me," Dean clarified, clearing his throat and glaring at Charlie. "Like… just tossed it at me and ran away. It was so weird, I didn't even know what to do. I just… kept it."

"Well… what'd he look like?" Charlie moved on from the colorful stuff to what looked like skin tones- powders and stuff. 

"Uh. He had this dark hair, 'n it was all screwed up. Like, permanent bedhead. Geeky looking too. He wore this, um…" Dean trailed off, motioning to his neck with both hands. "A collared shirt. And a sweater over it. He was a real nerdy type. Probably your people," Dean commented, laughing when Charlie slapped his shoulder in reply.

"You know, he actually does sound like someone I might know. What kind of bag did he have?"

"Huh?"

Charlie rolled her eyes and continued her work on Dean's bruise, repeating her question a second time. "What kind of bag did he have?"

"Uh..." Now that Dean had to think about it, he wasn't sure. It wasn't a normal backpack, though. Probably something nerdy, befitting the nerd that he was. "I- I don't really remember," he mumbled. "It only had one strap, though, so probably a messenger bag, or somethin' like that."

Charlie nodded and patted something dry on Dean's head, pulling back and closing all of her supplies. "All done," she announced happily, grabbing a compact mirror out of her bag to show Dean her results. He hummed in response as he flipped the mirror open and inspected the job she'd done. 

"Good work, Charlie, looks good. I'll pay you back when I've got something good, promise." Dean shuffled to his feet and grabbed his bag, watching as Charlie began filling her bag back up with all of the supplies and objects that she had dumped out, securing the weak flap that covered her bag with a strap.

"He kinda sounds like a friend of mine, let me find a picture." They both began to head towards the exit, though at a slow pace as Charlie scrolled through her gallery in search of a specific picture. "Aha!"

She turned to Dean and shoved the phone in his face. "Wha-" 

"Just look. Is this your guy?"

Dean stepped back and took a moment to refocus, squinting his eyes as he looked at the screen in his face. Tousled, dark hair, blue eyes, nerdy get-up and all. He nodded slowly, uncertain about how to reply. Of course he's Charlie's friend. Charlie may as well be friends with the whole school, for crying out loud.

"You're right, he is kinda nerdy, even for my standards. He's double majoring in history and religious studies. He's a good guy, though, Dean, I'm sure he didn't mean to bump into you."

"Religious studies? What is he, a religious freak? Who majors in religious studies?" Dean criticized this man he knew nothing about as he and Charlie kept walking, out of the room and eventually, out of the building. 

"Well, first of all, he does. And _his_ name, is Castiel." Charlie avoided looking directly at Dean as they walked, though she couldn't help slipping a glance out of her peripheral vision, watching his expression curiously.

"Castiel. Sounds like some angelic crap."

"Oh? You think it's angelic?" Charlie teased at Dean, erupting into laughter and running ahead of Dean as he attempted to tackle her.

"You know what I mean, jackass. Like something out of the Bible."

"It probably is," Charlie replied. "His parents were the religious freaks you speak of- they named him and his brother after angels. Castiel… and Gabriel."

"Were?" Dean faces Charlie, brows furrowed quizzically. He doesn't push when the expression on her face sours.

Charlie cleared her throat before moving on, pressing her lips into an awkward smile. "You should really return that aspirin. Kid has headaches like no other, all he does is study. I'm sure you wouldn't mind meeting his _angelic_ ness again, anyways."

"I'm gonna pretend I didn't hear that," he grunts out. "I'm not as thrilled as you think I am. I got a mean ass headache from his stupid ass rushing in, I'm not exactly head over heels or anything." Charlie's face softens at Dean's words. He's right. She wouldn't be ecstatic either if some clown banged a door in her face.  
"But… I'll return the aspirin. Just text him or something, get him to meet me somewhere, preferably before he goes home."

"Alright, yeah, sure," Charlie nodded in reply, grabbing her phone again and punching a series of words in before she looked back up again. "I'll call you if he replies." 

"That works for me. I'm gonna go grab a bite to eat, if you wanna tag along." 

"Nah, I gotta go bother Benny and beg him to let me try more stuff on him. Thanks for that nasty bruise, though, it was good practice," Charlie says with a giggle, waving Dean goodbye as she runs off. He waves back until she's fully turned away.

Now, alone with his thoughts, Dean thinks. He really, really thinks. About this Castiel guy that he'd collided with. Castiel. Really? He got whacked by a _Castiel?_ How unfortunate.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trying to write more for each chapter ;-; pls bear with me. The pacing is bad, I'm sorry lmao

Lunchtime. The silent, unspoken reprieve that Castiel had been in need of the moment he opened his eyes. He mulled his choices over thoughtfully, leaning against the bus-stop bench, wondering whether or not he craved a burger more than a taco when his phone buzzed in his pocket. _Damnit,_ Cas cursed under his breath, pulling it out begrudgingly. Of course somebody found the perfect time to bother him.

As Castiel's eyes scanned the screen, he noted who the text was from, frowning slightly. Charlie and him didn't normally text that much, as long as he didn't count the unrelenting stream of random video links and pictures she'd taken.

">Heya, Cas. Little birdie tells me you slammed someone with a door :-) He has your aspirin"

_Oh. Oh my God._ Castiel read and reread the message again, his breath hitching in his throat. He felt so incredibly unlucky, that he just managed to pick the one guy Charlie coincidentally knew to slam a door on. His skin prickled at the thought of seeing him again, embarrassment flooding back into his body as his fingers hovered over the keyboard. He wasn't sure what to say.

">..."

">I can't believe I picked the one guy you somehow know to do that to.|"

He paused before resuming his typing again. 

">Does he want to meet? Or can you just grab my aspirin for me? I might pass out if I have to talk to him."

Castiel breathed out through his nose, growing impatient at Charlie's lack of a quick response. He shoved his phone back into his back pocket and chewed over his bottom lip, swiping his tongue over the chapped skin before biting down on it again. Whoever this guy was was the last person Castiel wanted to see, though at the same time, he had promised to himself that he'd find him and apologize properly. He owed it to him.

Castiel's phone buzzed again in his back pocket, bringing his attention back to Charlie as he scrambled for his phone. 

">He already left with your aspirin :-( I told him I'd call him if you responded so you gotta meet him"

Of course he left. Son of a bitch. There was no backing out at this point, Castiel decided, though everything in his body wanted desperately for him to just take the bus home.

">Fine. I guess. Where is he? I'll meet him."

…

">That diner across the street, shouldn't be that bad of a walk. Good luck soldier"

Castiel let out a soft chuckle at Charlie's words of encouragement, tucking his phone into his bag. He wasn't accustomed to going anywhere besides home or the cafe he enjoyed, but sacrifices had to be made, much to Cas' chagrin. It was technically his fault for what happened, after all.

\---

Nana's Diner. Castiel never cared to learn the name of this place, but there he was, standing in front of a large sign that bore the restaurant's name. He didn't seem to mind that his appearance was disheveled, his sweater rumpled, curls of hair sticking to his face. The walk to the diner had Castiel working up a sweat, something he did not appreciate. He could hold this to that aspirin thief, too, and damned if he didn't.

As Cas walked into the diner, he was met with a chilled gust of air, blowing against his face and cooling the hot skin. He secured the strap on his shoulder and walked further inside, searching for the head of sand-colored hair he'd seen hours before. His search ended at the last table- a booth, tucked into the corner next to the window. What did this guy have against him, making him walk all this way?

"Hello." The greeting was simple. Castiel wished he could've come up with something more, though, as the man turns to look up at him. Scrutiny that wasn't really there pierced into Castiel, and he could feel himself shrink. This guy stunk of alpha energy if Cas had ever seen it.

"Hey there, stranger. Siddown, I won't bite. Promise."

"You, uh-" Castiel flushed visibly, swallowing apprehensively as he took a seat across from the man, sliding into the booth with both hands on the table. "I thought I gave you a bruise?" His statement ends as a question, the tone pitching up. This had to be him, so why wasn't he showing the, um... symptoms?

"Charlie covered it up for me," he replied, stirring the ice cubes in his soda with a straw. He drew a hand away from the cup to dip underneath the table and out of view, returning with the aspirin bottle Castiel had been missing. "Here you go," he said quietly, sliding the bottle across the table. "She told me a little about you."

Castiel looked up from the bottle to the man again, eyebrows quirked up at the statement. "She- she talked? To you, about me?"

He laughed in response, a warm and friendly gesture that Castiel wasn't sure how to interpret. He grabs the bottle by the cap and holds it in his lap. "Yeah, dude. She seemed to like you." Castiel looked back down at the bottle and pursed his lips. He doesn't know whether or not to be embarrassed. "Castiel, right?"

His head snapped back up at the mention of his name. He hates how he likes the way the man makes it sound. "Yeah," he said in reply, nodding slightly. "What- what about you?"

"Dean Winchester," the man- _Dean_ , responded, introducing himself with a smile.

"Winchester."  
Castiel lets the name bounce around in his head for a bit before he opens his mouth again. "You, um… Are you related to Sam Winchester?"

"I- yeah, how do you know him?" Dean stopped stirring the ice in his drink to look intently at Cas. He shied away from the other man's glare, shifting uncomfortably in his seat.

"He's majoring in theology, isn't he? We've, uh, studied- we've worked together on a couple of things before. I don't know him that well," Castiel explained, tightening his grip on the strap looped around his shoulder. "I wasn't aware he had a brother." The mental image of Sam popped into Castiel's head. He let out an amused huff at the thought of that shaggy-haired sasquatch being Dean's brother.

Dean shrugged in reply, settling for Castiel's answer. "It's not like you could've known. But now you do." He glanced over his shoulder to see if anybody was coming with his order before turning back to face Castiel. 

"I'm sorry about earlier," Cas blurted out. "I never apologized properly, I felt horrible about what I did to you." His eyes were wide, and now Dean could see the blue from that photo Charlie had shown him. Not that he was, uh, looking at his eyes or anything.

"No, Cas, don't worry about it. I promise I'll live, I just got a little bump on my head, that's all it is. I just wanted to give you your pills back, and maybe say hi, since introductions were kinda cut short this morning."  
The shortened version of his name caught Castiel's attention. Was it supposed to be a nickname? They had just met, was Dean really already that comfortable? It didn't bother him, but it fueled his curiosity towards the other man.

A waitress stopped by their table to slip a tray in front of Dean, complete with fries and a wrapped up sandwich. He thanked her and grabbed his sandwich as soon as she left, unwrapping it. Dean had been reeking of hunger, his scent gradually lessening as he satisfied his appetite. It wasn't abnormal for moody alphas to have strong scents like that, but Cas did find it amusing.

"That makes sense." He watched as Dean dug into his food, his own stomach gurgling at the lack of food. Shit. He forgot that he was supposed to get lunch.

Dean looked up and fixed his gaze on Castiel, nudging the basket of fries towards the other man. "You can have some, you know. I know you're hungry." Castiel looked down at the fries and dug his teeth into his lower lip. It smelled great, he had to admit. A few wouldn't hurt, he decided, making up his mind and grabbing a couple of fries out of the basket.

"That's good," Dean heard him say under his breath, probably not intending for Dean to hear. He still puffs his chest a little, though, instinctually prideful in being able to satisfy him. 

"Anyhow," Dean cleared his throat, swallowing a few bites of his sandwich before speaking again. "Don't worry about earlier. Chances are, I won't see you again. Not for a while, anyways." Relief was quickly replaced with worry- relief that Castiel wouldn't have to face this ordeal again, though worried… No, not quite worried. Dissatisfied was a better word, but still not the right one. A little part of him was hoping he'd see Dean again, maybe just not under the same circumstances.

"And Charlie got a kick out of covering this up for me. No hard feelings, alright?" 

Dean's eyes fell on Castiel, who reached for another fry before he realized that he was being stared at.  
"Repeat it," Dean said softly. Castiel meets his eyes and swallows the fry down. He's not sure if he's been requested to, or ordered to, and with ballsy alphas, it was something he'd rather not bet on.

"No hard feelings," Cas repeated, studying the other man's expression as he says the words. 

"Alright, good. Glad we're on the same page." Dean pushed the basket of fries further towards Castiel, trying his best not to make too much noise against the counter. "You can finish 'em. I'm full." Cas knew that he was lying. There's no way that one puny sandwich and a couple of fries satiated an alpha's hunger, not when he knew that they could eat multiple plates of food, but he doesn't reject the offer. He figured that Dean might just be a pushy beta, but he doesn't pay it much mind. The fries have his full attention now.  
-  
Dean watched his movements as he ate, glancing away here and there to interrupt the fact that he was staring at the poor dude. He really hoped that he wasn't coming off as creepy. Castiel was a funny little guy, though. Not completely skinny or wimpy- Dean could see that he had quite a bit of lean muscle, all taut and fit to his body, but he was definitely kind of mousy in the way he dressed. He didn't look like someone who would take shit for nothing, but to any passerbys, he just looked like another self-absorbed dweeb, in his white button-up and baggy sweater. Not to mention that he was _double majoring_ in history and religious studies, for Christ's sake. The scuffed brown leather shoes on his feet didn't help his case at all. 

It was kind of endearing to Dean, though he never let the thought fully surface. Castiel was smart. Wary of his surroundings and other people. Dedicated to his studies. Dean was enthralled, considering the fact that he tended to stumble into things and take a more spontaneous approach in his life. Being an alpha kind of helped that, he supposed.  
Nevertheless, he wasn't too upset about the mornings events, now that he was sat across from the guy who initiated them. 

"I'm done," Castiel announced quietly, wiping his mouth off with a napkin and crumpling it into a ball. Dean snapped out of his daze and looked up to meet Cas’ eyes. He seemed content, which made Dean’s already sorely stretched pride swell just a bit more, a boastful puff that Dean hoped the other man didn’t see.

“Alright." Dean dipped his head in a nod and gestured for a waitress, who returned a few minutes later with a receipt and let Dean look it over before grabbing his card.

"Dean."

He swivelled around at the call of his name, looking toward Castiel. His voice was low as he spoke his name. Dean likened the sound to a grind, low and rumbling in his chest, vibrating like a purr. He speculated that he could get Cas to soften up around him, though he was sure that some guy who already felt humiliated enough was not going to be warming up to him any time in the immediate future. He tried not to feel dejected at the thought.  
"Yeah, what's up?"

"What do you major in?"

The question somewhat took Dean by surprise. "I. Uh, mechanical engineering. Why do you ask?"

"I was just curious," Castiel replied, fidgeting with the empty fry basket and bending the wires out of (and back into) shape. "I'm majoring in-"

Dean interrupted Cas with a short wave of his hand. "I know, Charlie told me that, too." Castiel scowled at that, letting go of the basket and folding his arms over his chest. 

"How much did she tell you?"  
He knew she tended to run her mouth when she could, and it's not that he minded. He just… really would've rather liked for Dean _not_ to know too much.

Dean froze for a moment and pressed his lips together. He wasn't sure how much was too much, and he didn't want to dig Charlie into a hole he couldn't get her out of. "Um… well, you have a brother named Gabriel. You were both named after angels."  
Dean trailed off after that, hesitant to mention what Charlie had said of Castiel's parents. While he didn't care much, seeing that he had his own issues within his family, he wasn't stupid. He was aware that it could've been a private matter for Cas and decided at that moment not to mention it or think about it again.

Castiel let out a sigh and gave Dean a weary smile, removing his hands from the table altogether as the waitress arrived with Dean's card. "Sorry. I had to make sure she didn't say anything too bad."

"No, yeah, man, I get it. You're all good."

They shared another look, locking eyes for several moments before Dean coughed and slid his card off of the table, fitting it back into its place in his wallet.

"I should get going," Castiel spoke up in a quiet voice. "I have work tonight." He began to shuffle out of his side of the booth and fastened the bag on his shoulder, dropping his pill bottle into a side pocket. Dean watched as he unzipped the main compartment of his bag and reached inside, pulling out a wrinkled 5 dollar bill and setting it on the counter next to Dean's hand. He stared at it, glancing from Castiel to the bill and back to Cas again. "For the fries," he murmured, letting his fingertips drag across the tabletop.  
When Dean looked back up to return the bill and tell him that "it's no biggie", he was already gone. Damnit.  
" _This fucking guy,_ " Dean whispered under his breath, grabbing the scrap of paper and shoving it into his pocket. Gave him a whole aspirin bottle, and now five dollars for some cheap fries that probably only cost a dollar. He really needed to be more critical of what he was handing out. 

Dean did appreciate the act, though, and the fact that it was all for him put a fond smile on his face.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mfw I fuck up at writing soft stuff and make it sound robotic

What a shitty day.  
At least, Castiel considered, he had some time to spend at home before he needed to be anywhere. He usually worked the afternoon shift at his job, seeing that he had a class or two taking up his morning most days. It was a decent job on its own- a small bakery right in the busiest parts of town, popular for its sweet foods and cakes. Castiel did have to experience a window of the rush hour they experienced, but after that, it was peaceful- it also gave him time to work on his own little projects and work the stress of the day into whatever he baked. Which he was in _desperate_ need of, currently. 

Castiel wondered for a moment if Dean would appreciate something like this; maybe a pastry of some sort, or something simpler like muffins or cookies. He shook the thought away quickly, though, scrunching his face up as if it was the worst idea he’d ever had. No way. Not baking for anybody. Besides himself, at least. His mind drifted from Dean to the sweets he conjured to Gabriel, and Cas decided that he could manage something for Gabriel. Gabriel didn’t count as a person, anyways, so he could get away with baking something small for him. It was a better alternative to the candy he was always eating, Castiel had justified to himself.

“Heya, Cas.”

Castiel turned and laid his eyes on Gabriel, jolting in his seat at the sudden intrusion. “I’m serious, Gabe, you scare me to death when you do that,” he muttered, turning back around in his chair. “What is it, anyway?”

Gabriel offered Castiel a sheepish smile, scratching the back of his neck. “I gotta get ready for work sooner than I thought. The jackass who’s supposed to be covering this shift is MIA, so they’re calling me in.” He spoke with a roll of his eyes, saying something inaudible under his breath that Castiel can only assume is a string of swears. He could loosely understand, though he enjoyed his work at the bakery. Working at a movie theatre must not have been forgiving.

“Do you want me to bring something home for you? I thought that I could make something small for myself while I’m there once traffic cools down.”

“Hell yeah, what are you gonna make?”

“It’ll be a surprise.”  
Gabriel glowered at that and folded his arms over his chest, eyeballing Castiel suspiciously. 

“It better not be anything gross, and _no spinach stuff_. The last time you did that, I could’ve killed you if you weren’t my brother.”  
Castiel held his hands up defensively and chuckled. 

“That wasn’t really my fault, Gabriel, you bit into that thing, no questions asked. You evidently don’t know your pastries if it looked like something sweet to you.”  
Gabriel only grumbled in response and unfolded his arms, letting himself fall back onto Castiel’s bed. “Do you really have to do that? You’re gonna mess up my covers,” he sighed, standing up from his chair and nudging Gabriel’s dangling foot with his own. 

“Unless you wanna fight over it, I’m not getting up,” the older brother replied, swinging his feet and sprawling further out over the bed. Weighing the possible consequences of each choice, Cas opted to leave him alone and instead make his way to his closet. “Wise decision,” Gabriel called from the bed, watching as the other man began to sort through a variety of tops before tugging one off of its hanger. A cream-colored, knitted turtleneck sweater. It definitely helped the nerd look.  
He took a few moments to properly unbutton his shirt and lay it on the back of his chair, pulling the sweater on over his head. It fit a bit loosely, though it wasn’t overly baggy by any means. He decided against changing his pants- a decent fitting pair of dark brown, pleated slacks. It was a favorite of his and had the worn quality to show for it.  
“That looks like some crap a grandma would wear.” Castiel doesn’t waste the energy to look at Gabriel or acknowledge the childish giggle that comes out of him.

“If you don’t shut up, you will not like what I bring home for you,” Castiel said in a low voice, indifferent to Gabriel’s judgment as he continued to shuffle through his closet. Unable to complete his search, he turned to his brother, meeting his eyes with an irritated expression. “Did you take my belt again?”

“ _Borrow,_ ” Gabriel corrected, shifting restlessly as he felt Castiel’s gaze drill into his soul. “And, uh… yeah,” he said quietly, “I borrowed it.” He swallowed nervously after concluding his statement, sucking his teeth and sitting up. Had this issue concerned anything else, Gabriel would already be poking fun at Cas for getting so worked up about it, but he recognized that the younger man was testy when it came to his clothes being misplaced. He did not feel like pouring gasoline on the fire. “Sorry, buddy, I had to use it for work yesterday. I’ll go grab it.” Gabriel scooted off of the bed and padded out of Castiel’s room after that.

Cas watched as Gabriel left the room, exhaling in exasperation as he shook his head. "What a moron," he muttered under his breath, ditching his closet for the table his work shoes were tucked under. Slipping them on, he undid the knotted laces, redoing the tie to make sure it was snug. A soft clinking noise spoke for Gabriel's return. He draped the belt over Castiel’s shoulder before reclaiming his spot on Cas’ bed. The younger man expressed his thanks and pulled the belt off of his shoulder, threading it through the loops on his pants and fastening the buckle. 

“You all set?”

Castiel turned to Gabriel with his fingers still hovering over the belt buckle. “Yeah, I leave my apron at work so I don’t have to bring it back and forth.” Gabriel snorted out a laugh at the thought of his brother in a dumb looking little apron, still chuckling a bit when he opens his mouth to speak. 

“I’m never gonna get over that,” he sighed out, propping his arms up to put his hands behind his head and rest on them.

“Don’t make fun of my apron. That apron is the reason you get anything out of my job in the first place.” 

“Ahh, I’m just having fun, Cas. Don’t be a prude.”

The other man rolled his eyes with a slight smile. “You’re a pain in the ass, Gabriel. I’m gonna get going. Don’t be too noisy if you come home later than me.” He brushed himself off and swiped the key on his table, pocketing it and reaching for his phone as well, exiting the room.

“Later, gator,” Gabriel yelled out from behind him. _Moron._

\---

Jesus Christ. Castiel hadn't realized how much he needed this.  
He stood in front of a polished counter, already sanitized and ready to be used. The rush hour he'd been expecting the moment he got off the bus never came- today must not have been a busy day for the bakery. Oh, well. More time for danishes. A raspberry cheese danish sounded divine, and Castiel knew it would satisfy Gabriel's sweet tooth without the negative impact that candy had.

_Danishes shouldn't take that long,_ Castiel thought to himself as he opened the door to one of the bakery's refrigerators, pulling out a tightly wrapped lump of laminated dough that another employee had prepared the day before. Perfect. He laid the dough out on the counter, cutting it in half and rolling one of the halves out into a rectangle. 

Whatever stress that had built up inside of Castiel throughout the day was gone now, leaving through his hands as he worked the dough gently. Several angled cuts to the shape of the dough later and he was ready to grab the cream cheese mixture he nearly forgot he made. Castiel breathed out faintly as he spread a portion of it down the center of his strip of dough, careful and concise so that he wouldn't make a mess. Raspberry filling was spread out on top of the cheese mixture afterwards.

Now came the part he _loved_. Cutting it up and prepping it to be braided. Though, as Cas paused for a moment and gave himself time to think, he wasn't quite sure where he'd last placed the pastry wheel. He tried a few drawers before he found the damn thing- along with a note laying underneath it. 

_"K. Stop leaving the cutter on the counter, you know where it goes. -Jo"_

Castiel hummed and tucked the note into his pocket, lips easing into a small smile as the image of Jo chastising Kevin played in his head. He was still in high school, though his knack for difficult cake designs and baking tough dishes kept him around. Castiel had grown quite fond of him; he was the little brother Cas didn't want, but still had, and Kevin had grown on him a fair amount.

Castiel blinked the image away, focusing his mind back on the dough in front of him and returned with the pastry wheel he had spent so much time searching for. He rolled the wheel along the dough's sides at an angle until each side had a number of strips cut into them, picking each alternating strip up and folding it over the dough.

It was a little tedious, Cas had to admit. Stress-relieving or not, the idea of an already baked and cooled danish was nagging at him like a fly in his ear. _God,_ he was starving, but they weren't even for him. At least there were leftovers from the day that he could forage for later.

He finished his job on the first danish and sealed the filling inside before setting it aside and grabbing the other piece of dough he'd left behind. He deliberated whether or not he was willing to give up the second pastry to someone else, considering his other options aside from Gabriel (one was enough for him). Charlie, maybe. Kevin was out of the question. He had an entire bakery to ravage, and if he didn't, that was on him. Castiel didn't know Benny very well yet, though he seemed nice from the few instances in which they'd met and talked, and he was sure that Benny could appreciate a raspberry danish. Maybe. He didn't know Benny that well, though, and who's to say he'd accept food from a guy he barely knows? Dean was a possibility. Actually, Dean was not a possibility, and could never be a possibility. Dean didn't even exist. You can't _possibly_ give someone who doesn't exist a danish.

Castiel sighed and continued working on the second braid, retrieving eggs and milk from the fridge when he was finished to whip up an egg wash. He felt guilty for lingering on the whole situation, for letting Dean pop back into his mind at random times. It was an alien feeling considering that Castiel normally didn't spend an ounce of his brain power on anybody if he could help it. Plus, was it not kind of creepy to think about someone if you weren't talking to them, or at least in their vicinity?

Castiel pulled a silicon brush from the same drawer the wheel had been sitting in, dipping it into the egg wash he'd concocted and layering it on in thin strokes. He tipped the last few drops onto the second pastry and spread it evenly, setting the bowl down in one of the sinks in the room. 

Almost done. All that was left was preheating the oven and chilling the pastries before popping them in. Just the thought of freshly baked danishes made Castiel giddy, even if he couldn't enjoy them himself- he (almost) always took pleasure in gifting them to other people, and it's not like he didn't enjoy the creation process. He couldn't help the disappointment he felt when he only found a couple of muffins from the previous day, though. What a pittance. _Sad excuse for a meal when there're danishes in the oven,_ Castiel thought.

Once the danishes were completed, Castiel wrapped them up and sealed them in an airtight bag, zipping it up and setting it on the counter. The apron Gabriel had poked fun at earlier was now covered in various substances, and Cas could only imagine the stains that would cling to it with a shudder. He'd have to fold it up and take it home to be washed. Talk about a pain in the ass. 

As Castiel began wiping down the counters and putting equipment away, Dean trailed back into his thoughts, the little nuisance that he was. _He's got the appetite of a bear. He can't possibly_ not _like it,_ Castiel figured, scrubbing into the countertop a bit too harshly as he became distracted. _Damnit._

Cas pulled away from the counter and dragged a clean hand over his face, grumbling agitatedly. _This_ is why he avoided letting people into his brain. He finished his work and grabbed the pastries from the counter as he locked up for the night, switching the lights off on his way out. Surviving the bus ride home wasn't high on Castiel's priorities.

\---

"Gabriel?"

Nope. Not home yet.

Castiel stepped into his house and closed the door behind him, locking it with his back to the door. He tossed his key into a bowl on the breakfast island at the end of the hall and set his belongings down, making his way over to a small pantry to store the danishes he'd brought home. It was considerably late when Cas finally got home, and judging how tired he already was, he didn't want to think about how tired Gabriel would be. He figured he could at least leave a note instructing him how to prepare the danish if he wanted to eat it right away, and chances were, he would.

God. So tired. Even the scrawled writing on the sticky note Castiel left behind on the kitchen tabletop was proof enough of his fatigue, messy little scratches and an unintelligible hybrid of printing and cursive. Gabriel was probably the only person who could decipher them at this point. 

Castiel trudged off to his room and kicked his shoes off, pushing them into the corner of the room with his foot before flopping down onto the bed. _Fuck._ His belt was digging into his abdomen. Groaning, he rolled over, pulling the stupid thing off and tossing it over the side of the bed. That raspberry-stained apron would have to wait. 

Dim light seeped into his room from the streetlights outside and cast a soft glow on the young man's face. It didn't really help with the dark circles and lines under his eyes, but as he let his body go lax against the bed, it illuminated whatever peaceful (and much-deserved) feeling he was having. Tensed facial muscles loosened until his lips parted slightly and his eyebrows relaxed. Castiel's breathing evened out and slowed, stretching the pauses between each heave of his chest, barely audible at that point. He finally felt the last traces of the day's worries filter out. 

This felt nice. This was nice. Right up to the point _before_ Castiel's stupid, dumb brain came full circle back to Dean. 

What was up with this freaking guy?


End file.
